Eggnog
by clarissawritesall
Summary: Emma has an aversion to eggnog, but the hurt of having to explain why to her parents comes from a much deeper place. She shouldn't get upset over such a simple thing, but she does, and finds herself stuck in the snow. Set after 3x22, no real spoilers. The Charming's are still trying to figure everything out. Not really about eggnog.


She should have never gone out tonight. Emma groans and tries again to pull herself up, but the throbbing pain in her left ankle makes it impossible. The slippery ground isn't helping either, which means she is pretty much stuck here until someone came along.

If only she hadn't been so headstrong and defensive. With another groan, Emma swipes a hand over her face and sighs. It is starting to get cold. Like, really cold. Since she'd taken a walk to cool off, it was no surprise that her luck would bring hypothermia.

Ok, it wasn't _that_ cold. But she was shivering. And her ankle _really_ hurt.

_That's what you get._ She told herself. Her parents had only been trying to help, but she was tired from working on paperwork at the station all day and wasn't in the mood for a heart-to-heart. Her bull-headedness had kicked in too powerfully and she hadn't even thought about the terrible weather when she stormed out the door.

Great, now it was starting to snow. She was stranded in the middle of nowhere in the freezing cold and it had started to snow. She almost laughed at the irony: she'd left the apartment to get away from Snow, and now she was surrounded by it. Emma doubted there would ever be a time when puns on her mother's name would stop being funny.

She really hadn't meant to get angry; Mom was only trying to take her mind off the hard day. All the same, it had hit a nerve she didn't know existed when Snow had offered her some eggnog. Emma hadn't (for various reasons), but didn't really feel like explaining another of her childhood woes. Her response had been a bit snarky, but she hadn't really tired to be mean.

_"__Come on. It's a holiday tradition."_ Snow threw her daughter a warning look for the tone she'd used, but Emma ignored it.

_"__I don't want any."_

_"__Here. I even put a little extra alcohol in it." _Snow gave her a glass. _"Just try it. Granny has a special recipe; she's finally managed to make it taste more like it did back in the Enchanted forest."_

_"__I said I don't want any." _Ok, maybe that had been a bit too forceful. But Emma didn't think she would have to refuse a drink three times.

_"__Why not?"_ David cut in, his tone indicating he thought Emma was being rude toward her mother. (Which she was, but she was too tired to admit it.)

_"__I don't like. I never have." _

_"__Everybody likes eggnog."_ He said it as if stating a face, a fact that simply wasn't true.

_"__Well, I don't."_

_"__Why?"_ David had sounded angry and defensive too, (and a little childish, if Emma did say so herself).

Emma snapped. She hadn't wanted to explain, but it seemed there was nowhere else to go. _"You wouldn't either if you were seven years old and had already had one glass too many and your foster brother dared you to drink another one in under a minute but instead of grabbing one without alcohol, you grabbed one with and ended up puking it and your entire supper all over the floor in front of everyone."_

Snow had stilled. _"Oh Emma, I'm sorry…."_

But Emma was too fed up to let her finish. She said the meanest think she could think of before storming out the door. _"But then you wouldn't know that, would you, because you weren't there."_

That was definitely the moment she took it too far. She'd known the second the words were out of her mouth how horrible they were, and though she knew she was acting like a bratty 15-year-old kid, she didn't care. The look on Snow and David's faces killed her inside, but she was too exhausted and angry to think about it. So she'd left. And now she can't get back.

Emma tries again to stand, but between the ice on the ground and the pain in her ankle, she knows she's just going to have to wait it out. Spotting a tree about twenty yards away, she begins to crawl toward it.

What a sight it must be, the sheriff of Storybrooke, daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming crawling like a child toward a tree.

It is nice though, to be able to sit against something as she waits. She hopes someone comes to find her soon. If only her phone hadn't died.

Emma sighs forcefully. It would be just her luck. Everything, from the moment she got up this morning had seemed to go wrong, right to the point when her phone dies as she's about to make a call for help. So, she sits and waits for someone, anyone, to come along.

She has no idea how much time passes, only that it's getting colder, much colder. She's stopped shivering because she's so cold, and the snow has started to fall faster and heavier. The only upside is that she can't really feel the pain in her ankle. Of course, she can't really feel anything, so that might not actually be a good sign.

Emma knows it's foolish to sit in one position for too long. She knows it's even more foolish to doze off in such cold weather, but she can't help herself. Despite the cold and the tree digging into her back, she's actually starting to get quite comfortable. Besides, it's late enough that everyone else had probably gone to bed and no one will come looking for her until morning anyway. She might as well get some rest.

She discovers it's hard to move, even a little, but doesn't really care. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knows her body is probably shutting down and movement might save her, but she shuts out the voice before it even becomes a fully conscious thought. Time has little meaning anymore, and she stares off into space, watching the snow come down and blanket her legs.

The voice is faint, when she first hears it; so faint she's not sure she's heard it at all or if it is a dream. It comes again, only slightly louder, and Emma jolts awake.

"Hello?" she calls, her voice croaking slightly. "Hello?"

A pause. Then, "Emma?"

"Hello? I'm here!" her voice is louder this time. She hears footsteps, and David stumbles into view.

"Emma!" he cries, and rushes toward the tree. "Emma, you're safe. You're alive."

"Dad," she whispers into his shoulder as he hugs her. Emotions start spilling out as he rocks her gently, on hand on her head, the other wrapped around her body so tightly she can barely breathe. But she doesn't need too. "Daddy. You came."

"Emma. You're ok. I found you."

She's safe. She feels like a little child for a moment, her father is here and nothing could ever go wrong. "Daddy," she whispers again, more for her benefit than his. She didn't know until this moment how much she wished someone would come find her, and how much she wished that person would be her father.

He pulls back, his pleading eyes wet with tears. "Let's go home. Please, Emma, it's cold out here."

She realizes he doesn't understand that she's hurt, that she would have come home hours ago. "I can't…." she begins, but it's the wrong way to say it. His eyes grow stern and she knows he's about to pull out the Dad card, so she speaks as fast as she can with her numb lips. "I want to but I slipped on the ice and twisted my ankle. I can't stand or walk. My phone died too, so I couldn't call. I don't think my ankle's broken but…" she pauses at the next words before they come spilling out, slightly embarrassed to say it, but decides to finish the sentence anyway. "I need your help."

David's eyes soften. "Oh, Emma." He whispers. He knows it's a big step for her, admitting she needs help from anyone for anything. He gently pulls her to her feet, wrapping her left arm around his shoulders and his right arm around her waist. He holds her close so she barely has to support herself at all, hobbling along on one foot.

Emma has started shivering again slightly by the time the reach the truck. David helps her inside and pulls out his phone.

"Snow? Yeah. I found her. Yes. She's fine. Yes. We're coming home. Ok. She's ok, Snow. I promise. Yes. Yes. Ok. Tell Leroy. We'll be home soon. I love you too." He gets in the truck and starts it.

Emma's teeth are chattering as she asks, "Leroy?"

David throws her an apologetic look, reaching behind her to grab a blanket that she unfolds over her legs. "We were worried. Snow called Granny's around 10:30 to ask if they'd seen you. They hadn't, but Red asked Leroy if he had and he got all the dwarves together to go out and look."

Emma groans. Just what she needed: a search party in her honor. "It's after 10:30?" she asks, to keep herself from getting angry with David. He throws her another look, this one pity mixed with shock.

"Emma, it's after 1 am."

She stares at him. She left the apartment between 7:30 and 8; she's been out here over 5 hours. No wonder they were worried. "I'm sorry." She mutters. If only she wasn't so stubborn.

David seems to realize something's wrong. "Hey." He pulls the car to the side of the street and stops, turning toward her. "Emma, don't be angry with yourself."

"I'm not…"

"You are. I pushed you too far tonight. _I'm_ sorry. You shouldn't have to explain your drink preferences to your own father. It doesn't matter if you do or don't like something, Emma, and whether or not I know the reason, you shouldn't have to tell me why." He knows it was about more than drink preferences, but she's glad he started with that.

"But I was mean. It's not your fault you weren't there. There's no way you could have known. I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have gotten angry and taken my bad day out on you. We still have too much to talk about, too much to figure out and it wasn't fair of me to storm out like that. None of us are ready for that yet. You have every right to be upset." She has so much to say and not enough words or emotion to say them properly.

"I'm not upset with you, Emma. Neither is your mother. It's been hard for all of us, but it's no one's fault. We need to get to a place where we can talk about these things, where we can all feel comfortable discussing the past."

A tear slips down Emma's cheek. She angrily brushes it away. "But it's my fault. I'm not ready. You are. Mom has been since the moment the curse broke. It's not fair to you that I'm not yet."

"Hey." He wraps an arm around her, pulling her into his chest. "It's not your fault, Emma. These things take time. Healing the pain of your past is going to take time and we know that. You have 28 years of pain and loneliness to work through. Don't force yourself to be ready when you aren't. We'll wait until the end of time if we have to. Because we love you, Emma."

"But…"

"No. When we told you to take your time, we meant it. This family isn't like any other family you've ever had. No one is going to force you or ask you to do something you aren't comfortable with. No one is going to love you less because you aren't ready to talk about something. But when you are ready, we will always be here to listen."

They sit there for a moment, the only sound Emma's occasional sniff. David kisses her head gently, and then starts the car back up. "We'd better get home, or your mother will only worry more."

It is 1:30 by the time they pull in. David helps Emma out of the truck and up the stairs slowly. Snow is waiting for them as soon as they open the door.

"Emma!" she rushes forward, wrapping her arms around her baby. "Oh, Emma. You're safe."

"Yeah. I'm ok. Well, mostly." She can feel the walls forcing their way back up and tries her best to keep them down.

Snow pulls back to look at her, touching her cheek. "You're freezing!"

"Snow," David says softly, and indicates Emma's injured leg, lifted slightly off the ground. Snow backs up, confused, and David helps Emma settle into a chair.

"Mom?" Henry appears on the stairs.

"Henry! You're supposed to be in bed."

"I couldn't sleep. We didn't know where you were." His voice is shaky.

"Oh, kid." She holds out her arms and he runs down the last few steps to give her a hug. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. I didn't mean to be gone so long. It won't happen again, I promise. At the very least, I promise to make sure my phone is charged before I go storming out."

He smiles at her attempt at a joke and yawns. "Love you."

"You too, kid. Now go to bed. You have school tomorrow."

He nods, to tired to fight it, and trudges back up the stairs.

David settles into a chair in front of Emma and holds out his hand. "Let's see that ankle."

She lifts it up and he carefully removes the boot. She winces and he smiles apologetically. "This might hurt a little. Sorry."

"What happened?" Snow asks, hovering, like, well like a mother. Emma finds that she doesn't mind so much. It's rather comforting, the concern on Snow's face. Emma's never really had that before.

"I fell on the ice. Twisted it. I don't think it's broken, but it still hurts like hell." Emma winces again as David applies a little pressure.

"Sorry," he apologizes. "I don't think it's broken either, but I'm going to wrap it up for support."

"When did you become a doctor?"

He throws her a look to cut the sarcasm. "I grew up on a farm. We had to know if it was a break or a sprain if an animal got hurt. Since you can move it, I'm not too worried. Take some pain medicine and elevate it as you sleep tonight. I'd recommend icing it, but I think being out in the cold took care of that. If it still hurts too much to put weight on in the morning, we can go see Dr. Whale."

Emma nods even though she definitely doesn't want to do that. Turning to her mother, she holds out a hand. Snow has been watching them closely, but is clearly being wary of pushing Emma too much.

"I'm sorry, mom. I didn't mean what I said, and I shouldn't have said it. I'm trying to get to a place where we can talk, but it's still hard. I'm sorry."

"Oh, Emma, honey." Snow wraps her in a hug. "It's ok that you're not ready. Don't feel bad about it. We can wait."

"I know. I just… I want to talk about things but it's hard. I've spent so long shutting people out and now I have you and I just don't know how…" Emma stops, tears rising up in her throat and threatening to spill over. "Emotion is still hard."

"I know, baby. We're here for you, whenever you are ready."

Emma leans into her mother, finding a comfort she wasn't sure ever existed in warmth of Snow's arms. They stay like that for a moment until Emma realizes that she's exhausted. "I think I need to go to bed," she says quietly, and Snow steps back with a small chuckle.

"Of course, honey."

"I'll help you up the stairs," David offers, and she wraps her arm around his neck again. Snow darts into the bedroom before following them up the stairs. David settles her on the bed and kisses her forehead. "Goodnight, Emma."

"Goodnight, Dad." His smile warms her heart. He squeezes Snow's shoulder as he passes her on the way back downstairs.

Snow places a few blankets at the foot of the bed. "I figured you'd probably still be pretty cold. A warm shower would help best, but it's late and you're tired." She held up a small bottle and a glass of water. "This should help take down the pain and inflammation in your ankle. You'll sleep better and heal faster."

Emma thanks her, and promptly swallows a few pills. Snow hesitates, and Emma holds out a hand. Snow sits next to her for a minute before pressing a kiss to her temple. "Goodnight, Emma."

Emma squeezes Snow's hand as she stands. "Goodnight, Mama." The look in Snow's eyes confirm that her choice of wording had its desired effect.

"Goodnight, baby," She whispers, and Emma smiles.

Snow has almost made it to the stairs when Emma calls out, "And mom? Thank you. For everything."

"Always," Snow replies, and Emma smiles again. They have work to do, but it's a start. And maybe tomorrow will be a better day.


End file.
